Inside The Vortex
by r4ven3
Summary: This is the third part of a trilogy, and follows on from "A Most Ordinary Miracle". It opens almost 4 years after Ruth and Harry were married, and their son Daniel is 15 months old. Set from early in Series 10, totally AU, and sans Russians.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **__**This is a totally AU story, which opens early in Series 10 – a little over 3 and a half years after R & H were married, and 15 months after their son Daniel was born.**_

_**In this story, Tariq will not die. He is necessary to the plot. **_

_**As for the Russians... what Russians?**_

* * *

_London - Harry's & Ruth's bedroom – early morning – Wednesday 14th September:_

"Listen to that," Ruth said, her hand cupping her ear.

"What?"

"That's the sound of the world still turning, my love."

Harry turned towards her, lifting one finger to caress her cheek. "I know you, Ruth. You wouldn't have stated the bleeding obvious without there being a very good reason."

"You've been retired now for fifteen months, and the earth still spins on its axis and revolves around the sun, life goes on, the economy has not collapsed – not completely, anyway – the government is cranking along, and the good guys are still winning."

"Only just."

Ruth turned towards him, and traced her finger across the line of his mouth. "Such beautiful lips you have."

He grasped her hand and pulled it from his mouth and held it against his bare chest. "Don't change the subject, Ruth. What was the point of your early morning observations …... as if I didn't already know."

"Section D still functions well, even if Julian Sevigny is not a stroppy, moody, insufferably arrogant, and _sexy_ section head like that last guy we had."

"I'll show you who's stroppy and moody." Harry rolled her on to her back, lifted himself above her, and then attacked her mouth with a deep kiss, his tongue searching for her own. Ruth responded to him, and wound her arms around his neck, one hand reaching down his back between his shoulder blades, while the fingers of her other hand played with the ends of his hair, longer now than it had been when he was working. His hand moved down her side, until it reached her bare thigh. He slid his palm around until his fingers found her inner thigh. Ruth smiled as she kissed him. She knew where this was going, and she was glad. It was the very best way to begin the day, and she had a long day ahead of her.

Suddenly, just as Harry's hand had reached her warm centre, and he'd dipped a finger inside her, and Ruth had emitted a moan of pleasure, they felt, rather than heard, someone entering the room. Harry stopped moving, one finger still inside her, as rapid footsteps drew closer to their bed.

"Mumma. Dadda. Up," said their son, dressed in a pale blue sleepsuit with several poppers undone, his curly blond hair unruly, his hazel eyes bright and enquiring, one hand clutching the teddy bear Catherine had given him when he was born.

Harry removed his hand from where it was about to deliver pleasure to his son's mother, dropped his forehead on to the pillow beside her head, while Ruth turned her head to smile at Daniel. "Good morning, little man," she said. "And why, pray tell, are you up at this hour? Mummy and Daddy were just about to play a game."

"Up," he said, patting his free hand on the mattress, and bouncing on his toes.

Harry rolled back on to his side of the bed, grasping the duvet close to him to cover his arousal. He turned his head to smile at Daniel, and then leaned across and grasped him with both hands, kissing his cheek soundly before planting him on to the bed between he and Ruth. "High jinx to be postponed until further notice. Mummy's and Daddy's orgasms will have to wait."

"Harry!"

"What?"

"I don't want the fourth word he learns to be `orgasm'."

"Fifth word, Ruth. You're forgetting `No', which happens to be his favourite word of all. I'd just like to know how he managed to climb out of his cot."

"Maybe he'll be a mountain climber when he grows up," replied Ruth, turning to her son and kissing him, blowing raspberries against his soft and warm neck. Daniel giggled and wriggled, and kicked his legs against Harry's stomach. Harry watched his little family with a smile. There is only one person in the world for whom he would forego early morning sex with his wife.

* * *

By the time Ruth reached the kitchen, dressed ready for work, Harry had fed Daniel his cereal, and had cooked eggs and made toast. A pot of tea sat in the middle of the table. Daniel, perched in his high chair, chewed on a rusk covered in marmite, one foot hypnotically kicking the underside of the table.

"What's on the agenda for you two today?" she asked Harry.

"While you were in the shower Catherine rang, and she's planning to drop by after lunch, although I think she's visiting Daniel rather than me. And after we've cleaned up after breakfast I'll bath him, and then I thought we might go to the park."

"Again? You went yesterday."

"I know we did, but while we were there, he made friends with a little girl called Ruby, and I made friends with Ruby's grandmother, who assumed I was Daniel's grandfather. If I wasn't mistaken, Ruth, I think she may have been hitting on me."

"In your dreams, Pearce. Besides, did you by any chance show her your wedding ring?"

"I did, and I also told her that I was Daniel's father, and that my wife was a deeply dangerous and jealous woman. She seemed undeterred. She commented on how much Daniel looks like me."

"Daniel's strong resemblance to you is hardly a state secret, Harry, and as chat-up lines goes, it is highly unimaginative of her to have mentioned it. Perhaps the next thing you should tell this …. this 60-year-old _strumpet_ …... is that if your wife ever meets her, she'll karate kick her to the ground, and then choke the life out of her with her bare hands!"

Harry put his hands over Daniel's ears. "Ruth …... please... not in front of our child. Besides, I think Bella is probably closer to 50 than 60."

"Whatever …... you'd better not be planning to exchange phone numbers."

"I'm not looking for a date, Ruth. I do value our marriage vows. And I also value my balls. Truth is, I love to see you jealous. It turns me on."

"Daniel," Ruth said, addressing their son directly, "promise me you'll keep an eye on Daddy today, and when I come home, you'll tell me everything he did. In detail. Better still, take notes."

Daniel blew a marmite raspberry in Ruth's direction, his eyes crinkling in a cheeky smile which showed off all of his eight teeth.

Harry carried Daniel to the door to see Ruth off.

"Remember, Daniel. Everything Daddy says, and everything he does …... report back to Mummy."

Harry chuckled, but Daniel, as he did every morning, leaned across to Ruth for a hug and a kiss, and then began to whimper. "Mumma," he said, between his sobs.

"The minute the door closes, he's fine," Harry assured her, leaning across to kiss her. He opened his mouth and touched her lips with his tongue, but Ruth pulled out of the kiss.

"Harry! That's not a goodbye kiss."

"No, it wasn't. It was a come-home-soon-so-I-can-make-love-to-you-until-we're-both-exhausted kiss."

"How long has it been?"

"Three days and …... er ….. eight hours. That's three days too long, Ruth."

"I'll see what I can do," she said, blowing them both a kiss as she walked down the steps.

* * *

_The Grid – Wednesday 14th Sept – 7.50 am:_

"I'm sure that I'm right, Ruth," Tariq said earnestly. "I wanted to check with you before I said anything about it to Julian."

"I think you're right, too. Tariq, do you very much mind if I bring in a friend of mine to have a look at your findings? He's someone whom I know would be interested in working in tandem with you, but we have to keep it quiet. I've already contacted him, and he's prepared to see us today, if that suits you."

"Sure. I need all the help I can get. No-one seems to be taking me seriously."

"I believe you, Tariq."

"Yes, but you've been following Kassar for a few years, so you know what he's capable of. The guy's a genius, but he has a peculiar way of expressing his genius. If Harry were still section head, I know he'd listen to me."

"Harry has his hands full these days. He's becoming an expert at preparing bland, mushy food, and chasing a toddler around the house."

"You know," said Tariq, his face serious, "I can see you with a little kid, Ruth, but …... but my mind just goes blank whenever I try to imagine Harry looking after your son."

"You should see him. He's found his true calling. He's a natural, and Daniel worships him, which is the way it should be."

And she winked at him before they went to the meeting room.

* * *

_The Grid – Wednesday 14th Sept – 8.17 am:_

Harry's replacement as section head, Julian Sevigny, was mid 40's, tall and long-legged, and with the beginnings of a middle-aged paunch. Were it not for the streaks of grey through his short dark hair, he could have passed for a man in his late 30's. Julian's degrees in law and politics meant that he's more of a political animal than Harry ever was or aspired to be. His brief stint as a field intelligence officer came at the end of his impressive athletics career. He had been in Los Angeles for the 1984 Olympics, preparing to represent Britain in the high jump, when he'd had to withdraw from competition due to a stress fracture in his foot. In 1988, when the Olympics were in Seoul, he'd had to make himself unavailable, due to his wife being in the late stages of a difficult pregnancy. As a mature adult, his real interest, his skill, was in keeping sweet with the Home Office, and other branches of government. Thus, he was competitive, but diplomatic.

"The Home Secretary wishes Section D to have a presence in the Julian Assange case," Sevigny began. "For mine, I see it as a waste of our limited resources. All wind and no substance. Assange is under house arrest, but he's a media whore – pardon my language, Erin, Ruth -"

Ruth nodded at him and smiled to herself. Harry had never once said `pardon my language' in all the years she'd worked with him in Section D, and he'd had far more cause to have done so than Julian ever would. There had been times when Harry's outbursts had turned the air blue.

"The only threat," Sevigny continued, "is from his followers, who are trying to paint him as a victim, and so may go to some lengths to create difficulty for the British and US governments. The Americans want his head on a stick. He's a source of major embarrassment for them."

"I'm planning to send a couple of junior field officers to keep an eye on things," Erin replied. "Brandon and Grant should enjoy this one."

Dimitri nodded, and then rolled his eyes, knowing how much their junior field officers would much rather be in the firing line of some major operation, than baby-sitting this Antipodean hacker. Calum made a `phew' gesture, glad that he'd not been the one to be given the task.

Erin continued. "Also, I've put Oliver on trawling for any intel on Assange's followers and disciples, just in case they're planning something we should know about."

"Thank you, Erin. If violence, or protests break out in relation to Assange, then we'll be called in anyway. I'm just pre-empting that possibility. When and if he gets deported, he's no longer our problem, and then it will be business as usual." Sevigny turned in his chair to look directly at Tariq. "I believe you have some information, Tariq. Spit it out."

"I need permission from you to bring in some outside help with my latest venture."

"Which is? Do the rest of you know about this?"

"I do," Ruth said, while the others shook their heads.

"Go on, Tariq, tell us, but remember this - other than you, no-one in this room is a computer genius," Sevigny smiled at his attempt at humour.

"A few years ago, when Harry was still Section head, Ruth uncovered the activities of Yusuf Kassar, and since then, we've been keeping an eye on him. Most of the time he works in New York, but he makes frequent visits to Karachi, and even London and Birmingham. I have – er – contacts in the outside world who have come to similar conclusions as me -"

"You're not discussing this with them, are you, Tariq?"

"No, they're the ones telling me. They're guys who went to university with me. We get together for a drink occasionally. These guys have come up with the same information as me. Kassar has developed the capability to use the earth's satellite systems to trigger nuclear blasts simultaneously in different parts of the world."

"I had heard about this, Tariq," said Sevigny, "and if it's true, then none of us will be here to pick up the pieces."

"As far as terrorism goes, this same encryption system – to hijack a satellite – can be used by terrorists, to set off bombs simultaneously in various different locations. The way it works is that from a single computer, which can be located anywhere in the world, a signal can be sent to a satellite which then sends the signal to detonate to any other place in the world using the local mobile phone networks. It's a very sophisticated encryption."

"Is there anything can be done about this?"

"The encryption is the key. I'd like permission to consult an asset of Ruth's, because I'll need help to crack this code. I'll need to be periodically off-Grid for this, and so will Ruth."

"Ruth?" Julian looked directly at her. They had quite a satisfactory working relationship, but she missed Harry's energy and passion. Julian was always correct, always proper, sometimes too careful, aware how their actions as a group would look to the politicians. Harry had _cared_, perhaps too much at times, and that had been his most endearing quality as section head.

"I need to be with Tariq during the early stages of his meeting with my asset. I thought Oliver Ravenscroft could step into my shoes for the next few days."

"Do you think he's ready?" asked Julian.

"There's only one way to find out."

* * *

"This will be like being on holiday," Tariq said with a grin as they left Thames House in Tariq's car.

"A working holiday, Tariq," Ruth replied. "We'll still be working, and we have to take into account the possibility that we may be being watched."

"Point me in the right direction, Ruth.."

"Head to Muswell Hill."

Ruth looked across at Tariq after he'd finished keying in the address on his Sat Nav. "Do you mind if I give Harry a quick call?"

"Nah, you go ahead."

Ruth rang Harry, aware that Tariq would be able to hear her side of the conversation.

"Everything OK at your end?" Ruth asked, after Harry had answered his phone.

"You're checking up on me, Ruth." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Daniel, Mummy's checking up on me. Write that down in your little notebook, son."

"_Harry_ …... I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Good. That's good. I like to hear your voice too. I miss you when you're not with me."

"I'm with Tariq, in his car," she said, hoping he'd understand that she was unable to say anything of an intensely private nature.

"So, Julian is letting you out for the day," Harry replied. "I'm pushing Daniel in his stroller, and we're on our way to the park."

"Have fun, then, and don't …..." Ruth wasn't sure how to finish the sentence.

"I won't. I promise I'll look, but I won't touch."

"Don't even think about looking, Harry." She heard his laughter at the other end.

"Mummy's jealous," she heard him say, addressing his comment to Daniel. If only his former staff members could hear him now!

"I'll leave you to it, then," she said. "I love you. Bye."

"Love you too."

Ruth hung up, and looked across at Tariq, who was busy negotiating traffic.

Eventually Tariq pulled up outside the address Ruth had given him. They got out and Ruth's knock on the door was answered by a middle-aged man with short grey hair.

"Come in," the man said, giving Ruth a quick hug. "So lovely to see you, Ruth."

"Tariq, I'd like you to meet your predecessor at Section D – Malcolm Wynn-Jones. Malcolm, this is Tariq Masood."


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Thanks so much for embracing this new fic, and for all the nice reviews. There'll be 6 chapters all up, as each chapter is long-ish.**_

* * *

_Muswell Hill, home of Malcolm Wynn-Jones – Wednesday 14th September – 9.47 am:_

Tariq's jaw dropped at the mention of Malcolm's name. "This is so cool," he said, shaking Malcolm's hand. "But ….." he looked a Ruth, a worried expression on his face, "shouldn't we perhaps not be meeting one another? Like …... you're retired from the service, and Ruth and I are active officers."

"Harry and I pay little attention to it, Tariq," Ruth explained. "What are they going to do? Suspend us? We're two of Julian's most valued officers, and we are picking the brains of a former officer in order to solve a current problem – a threat to national security. The biggest issue is Malcolm's own safety should anyone discover he's involved in this project. The chances of him being in danger are in inverse proportion to our collective competence."

"Well said, Ruth. Now, who's for a cuppa?"

* * *

Being the connection between the past and the present, Ruth sat in on the conference between Tariq and Malcolm. She thought it sad that they'd never had the opportunity to work together. She also reflected that were Malcolm to have had a son, he should have had a son like Tariq, one who was exceedingly bright, focussed, and who spoke Malcolm's own peculiar language.

"I have something for you, Ruth. I need you to work on why these coordinates keep coming up. There are four locations – one is in Manhattan, one in Fiji, and several in and around London, while the last, and most interesting by far, is in Afghanistan."

"They'd need to access at least two satellites to cover that," Tariq pondered, his fingers flying across the keys of his laptop.

"Afghanistan is an unusual choice, I agree," said Ruth. "Perhaps the sites have some military significance." She thought for a moment. "Do either of you mind if I run this by Harry?"

"I was hoping you would, Ruth." Malcolm's eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. "The most interesting thing that I can see is that the London locations keep changing. It's almost like they haven't yet made up their mind."

"Or the target keeps moving," pondered Tariq.

"If you two want to work together on the encryption for the satellites," Ruth said, "I can go back to the Grid to work on these locations. There would have to be a connection, and I just can't see what that connection is."

"One other thing, Ruth," said Malcolm, as she began to gather her things together. "This Yusuf Kassar is being paid by someone, and we need to know who that might be."

"I'll get our new analyst on to that. Oliver Ravenscroft, newly acquired from GCHQ …... this can be a job for him, a chance for him to show us what he can do."

"I'll drive you back if you like," suggested Tariq.

"No, Tariq, I enjoy public transport. It affords me the luxury of thinking time."

* * *

_The Grid – Wednesday 14th September – 3.55 pm:_

Ruth had been working alone for almost three hours, and her eyes were glazing over. So far, there seemed to be no connection between all four locations. She looked over at Oliver Ravenscroft and smiled as he looked up at her. He had relished the opportunity to work on the Kassar case, and was busily occupied at his monitor. He seemed a worthy addition to the team – quiet, dedicated, discreet, and bright. When she retires, which she feels she soon must, he will step easily into her shoes. Ruth recognised that she could not continue to work at Section D, not if she wanted to be involved in the upbringing of her son. She didn't want to one day wake up to an eighteen-year-old Daniel going away to university, only to realise that she didn't know him, and that Harry had shouldered the parenting responsibility on his own for the whole eighteen years. She picked up her phone and rang Julian, himself busy in his office – which Ruth still thought of as Harry's office – reading and signing reports.

"Julian," she said, "I'd like to go home and work from there for the rest of the day."

"That's fine, Ruth. You are only part-time anyway, so taking a few early minutes is acceptable."

"Thanks."

Privately Ruth was irritated by his suggestion that she was only working part-time. When Oliver began at Section D, Ruth requested she have her weekends free, so that she could spend time with her husband and son. She knew she was pushing the boundaries. After all, Erin had a daughter, and she sought no special treatment. As Ruth saw it, Erin was ambitious and prepared to do whatever it took, while over the past fifteen months, her own priorities had dramatically changed. Why work until 11 pm if Harry wasn't there? Why work extra hours when she had a loving husband and a growing son at home waiting for her?

* * *

_Harry's & Ruth's house – Wednesday September 14th – 4.40 pm:_

As she walked through the front door of their house, Ruth heard voices from the kitchen.

"Hi," she said, as she walked through the kitchen door.

Harry stood and moved quickly to meet her. "Anything wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. I said I'd work from home," Ruth replied, reaching up to receive his greeting, a long and deep kiss. As Harry drew Ruth close to his body, Catherine uttered a cough.

"Er …... you have company..."

They pulled out of the kiss, and Harry smiled at his wife, his eyes lazy with desire.

"Do you want me to leave?" Catherine asked, a smile in her voice.

"Of course not," said Ruth, reaching across to kiss Catherine on her cheek. "It's lovely to see you. Where's Daniel?" She asked, looking at Harry.

"He was being a bit of a little bugger, so I sold him to some passing slave traders," Harry said.

"Harry, that's not even remotely funny!"

"He's upstairs in bed, Ruth," Catherine corrected. "Please excuse my father. He's been a bit weird today."

"My wife and I both know why that is, don't we, darling?" Harry said, looking at Ruth with one eyebrow raised.

Ruth gave his arm a mock slap. "Behave yourself, Harry."

"The truth is," replied Harry, "that Catherine and Daniel were having such a good time that he didn't want his sleep, and I had to wait until he zonked out completely before I could put him in bed."

"Tea, Ruth?" Catherine asked, the pot in her hand. Ruth nodded and sat beside Harry at the table. "Dad, do you want to tell Ruth, or should I?"

"It was your idea, Catherine. Perhaps you should tell her."

"Graham and I have been talking, and we've come up with a plan. We'd like to give you and Dad a gift for his birthday, and again for your wedding anniversary in January. We'd like to look after Daniel – in this house – while you two spend the night at a hotel. In January, we thought you might like a few nights away …... maybe in that cottage you stayed in when you came back to the UK."

Ruth had to think about this. Nights away from their son? What if he missed them? What if they missed him and so couldn't enjoy themselves? What if he fell sick? What if something happened to Catherine and Graham? What if burglars broke into the house overnight? What if …...?

Harry knew very well why she was hesitating. "He'll be fine, sweetheart. He loves Catherine and Graham."

"Do you think it's a good idea, Harry?"

"I think it's a wonderful idea. Just think of what we could do in a hotel room overnight?"

"Sleep would be good," Ruth replied, smiling at him, knowing he wasn't considering the probability of sleeping.

"The offer will remain open," Catherine said. "Just let us know when you want us here, and for how long. Graham and I are keeping our diaries free for those dates. Speaking of dates, I have one tonight, so I'd better get home and make myself presentable."

"Anyone I know?" asked Harry, suddenly serious.

"No. Just someone I met while researching my latest film. I'm not planning on marrying him, Dad. You don't have to meet him and give him `the talk'."

Daniel woke suddenly, and so Catherine went to his room to pick him up for a cuddle before she left.

* * *

After Daniel had been put to bed for the night, Harry and Ruth sat on the sofa in the living room with only a table lamp for light. In front of them on the coffee table was an unopened bottle of pinot noir, and two glasses.

"I just can't seem to make the connection, Harry. The four sites seem to have nothing at all in common."

"Maybe it's not the sites which you need to examine, but possible target groups. Then the connection between the sites might just fall into place."

"Like – banks, corporations?"

"I was thinking more of conferences. Say, a military conference, or a meeting of heads of state. I'd be looking at the itineraries of heads of state. Also the locations of any conferences between military leaders. It might not lead anywhere, but it will give you somewhere to start, and begin the process of elimination. Who do you have following the money? Someone will be paying Kassar. If you know who is responsible, then possible targets may become clearer."

"I've given Oliver that job. I think that his desire to impress will drive him to excellence. That's my theory, anyway. Do you think I should ring Calum so that he can keep an eye on Oliver, perhaps provide some support?"

"No, Ruth, that can wait until morning. You have a man sitting beside you who is craving your company, and especially your body. It's been four days, Ruth. Four days since we last made love. We almost never go this long -" He leaned across and kissed her, a gentle kiss which soon became deep and sensual.

They left the wine unopened on the coffee table, and climbed the stairs together.

On the way to their own room, they detoured into Daniel's room to check on him. Their son was fast asleep in his cot, his breathing steady and untroubled, his curly blond hair forming a halo around his head. They had begun kissing and touching each other while in his room, and had barely made the short distance along the hallway to their own room.

They made love on top of the duvet, both still partly dressed

This time, they were not interrupted. Daniel slept on.

"God, Harry, that was a close one," Ruth said, once they'd undressed fully, and slipped beneath the duvet to nestle in one another's arms.

"Meaning?"

"We came very close to having sex in our son's bedroom."

"But we didn't. We made it back here."

"Only just." Ruth brushed her fingers along her husband's forearm, trying to find the words to say what was on her mind. "Harry," she said after a while, "do you resent having to look after Daniel?"

"Christ, Ruth, where did that come from?"

"It's just that I go off to work each day, and you're left home to do all the cooking and washing and shopping, and look after Daniel, and while he's still little, it can be a chore."

"Looking after Daniel is never a chore. I was barely involved in the early years of my other two children, so caring for Daniel is a privilege. I love him."

Ruth turned her head to look at him. "Harry, I have no doubt you love him. I can see it in your eyes, and hear it in your voice. I'm not doubting how much you love him. It's just …..."

"Ruth, don't tell me this is about that stupid crack I made about selling him to slave traders. I wish I could take it back. I don't know why I said it."

Ruth nodded. "It wasn't funny, Harry. He's our precious child. Do you remember the night he was conceived?"

"How can I forget? I had been at that conference in Birmingham – in-house for ten days."

"The longest ten days in our married life."

"I got home at eleven o'clock at night, and you were in bed waiting for me. It was like tonight. I managed to get my shoes off -"

"And your watch, and your jacket."

"Yes, but that's all. You had your wicked way with me that night, Ruth. I can't believe that the night our son was conceived I made love to you with my shirt and tie still intact, my socks on and my trousers around my ankles. Such a tawdry image," he said with a smile.

"You were not complaining at the time."

"No, I wasn't complaining ... on the contrary, I remember it as being immensely ….. enjoyable." Harry smiled at the memory.

"I knew I was fertile, so that's why I ….. was here …... waiting for you." Ruth reached across to kiss him, and he responded to her hungrily.

"I'd like to make love to you again, but I'm not sure I'm capable."

"I'm happy to simply lie here with you."

"Me too."

"Harry -"

"Mmm?"

"Are you still happy being married to me? I mean _really_ happy."

"What's all this about, Ruth? You know I'm happy. I have everything I want in my life, everything I've dreamed about having – the woman I've loved for years, and on top of that we have a little boy. Daniel is a bonus. Why wouldn't I be happy?"

"Oh ….. I don't know. I think it might be this case. It scares me, but I don't know why."

"You know that we can leave Catherine and Graham in charge of Daniel, and he'll be well looked after. They love him and will care for him."

"But we might miss him, Harry."

"Ruth, is this about things in your life being so good that you're about to lose some of it?"

"I hadn't looked at it that way, but you're probably right. Old habits."

"I've no doubt we'll miss him when we're away from him for a night or two, but every now and again we need time for just the two of us. Catherine and Graham have offered, and I don't think we should turn them down."

"Okay. I know you're right. I'd rather like a night in a hotel with you."

"So, I can tell them we'll do it?"

Ruth nodded, her eyes almost closed with sleep. "Turn out the light, Harry."

* * *

_Thursday 15th September – Home Secretary's Office – 10.07 am:_

"I'm sorry to have brought you in here at such short notice, Ruth, but I'm tied up for the remainder of the day, and this was my only window."

"It's fine, Home Secretary."

"And how is Harry coping with retirement? I was sure he'd keep going until he dropped."

"He's coping very well. Our son keeps him busy, and I believe he also keeps Harry young. He's facing new challenges every day. Not long ago he told me that his life after MI-5 has been just like working in Section D, but with less tantrums."

William Towers smiled widely, his fingers laced over his ample abdomen. "I'm pleased that he's achieving fulfilment in his new life, but I didn't bring you here to talk about Harry. Ruth, your skills are legendary, and I'm sure you could find employment anywhere, so in an attempt to keep you in the intelligence services I'm creating a position for you here, in the Home Office, one which I'm hoping you will seriously consider. The position is for a Security Liaison Officer, and you'll be liaising between the Home Office, Five, Six, and Special Branch. You will report to me, you will have your own office and your own PA, you will work public service hours, so your weekends will be your own, and this," he said, pushing a piece of notepaper across his desk to her, "will be your starting salary. Please say yes."

Ruth picked up the notepaper and visibly started as she read the figure written there. "That's very generous, Home Secretary," she said.

"Not at all. You've been overworked and underpaid in your current position in Section D. Both Harry and Julian appreciate your value, but have never paid you accordingly."

"I'll have to discuss this with Harry."

"By all means, Ruth. Take your time, but I'd like your answer within a month. If you agree to take it, you can start in the new year. I believe you and Tariq Masood have something big you're working on."

"Yes, we have, Home Secretary, but it's proving to be elusive at this stage."

"Whatever resources you require, I'm here to help." Towers smiled then stood, indicating the meeting was over.

Ruth left his office, her head spinning. Part of her wanted to say yes straight away, while another part of her wondered what was the catch. Towers' offer was almost too good to be true.


	3. Chapter 3

_The Grid - Tuesday 20nd September – 2.11 pm:_

"Should we report this to Julian?" Oliver asked, his face hopeful.

"I'm not all that sure it's going to be helpful," Calum commented. "Ruth, what are your thoughts?"

"It's an interesting set of information, but I feel that it's highly suspect. I mean, why would a handful of the richest people in the world be planning a global terror attack? Donald Newhouse, Steve Forbes, Rupert Murdoch, James Murdoch, James Packer – these guys have media empires. They have the means to sway the way we all think, and they do on a daily basis. Why would they resort to terrorism? It just doesn't make sense. Tariq, can you suggest why it is these names have been linked to the money?"

"I think that dummy accounts have been created – only electronically, of course – to put us off the trail. Leave it with me. I'll see what …... what your asset has to say, Ruth."

"On the other hand," Calum said, "think back to the unholy alliance between Margaret Thatcher and Rupert Murdoch. Together they had plans to bring down the aristocracy in the UK. May be this is the next step."

"The Murdochs, perhaps, but the other three? I just can't see how they'd benefit. Still," Ruth continued, "until we have some idea of who – or what – is being targeted, we have little idea of who might benefit."

"We're like the dog chasing its tail," said Tariq.

"Or the tail chasing the dog," said Oliver, his dark eyes shining.

Tariq, Ruth and Calum all looked at the newest Section D recruit with new respect. Perhaps Oliver would fit in after all.

* * *

_The Grid – Thursday 22nd September – 2.47 pm:_

Ruth sat back in her chair, and took a deep breath. She then checked once more. It could be a coincidence, but it could just as easily be what she'd been searching for for over a week. She just wasn't convinced.

"Calum, what do you think about this?"

Calum turned his chair to face her, and scooted across to her desk, putting his hands out to stop himself before he and his chair crashed into Ruth or her desk. "What's up?" he asked.

"I haven't any firm dates for it yet, but some time in the next couple of months, the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall will be in New York -"

"Charles and Camilla."

"Yes. Prince William and his wife will be in Fiji, and Prince Harry is due to return to Afghanistan. That may be the reason those three locations have been chosen. I have pinned down the London locations as being two hospitals – both of which are due to be receiving visits from the Princess Royal – and a theatre which is to be opened by Prince Edward next month. There's a fifth location. I discovered it after …... my …... asset showed me how he'd come across the locations I mentioned here. The other location is the Royal Lytham & St Annes Golf Club in Lancashire. I discounted it at first, thinking it was an anomaly, but then I remembered that Prince Andrew plays golf off a handicap of 4, which is not bad for an amateur, _and_ he has been known to play at this particular golf club."

Calum looked at Ruth, his eyebrows raised. "So – if I hear you correctly – someone wants to off the whole British Royal family. Why? Who would want to do that, and what would they gain? There's a million of the buggers. You kill ten, and another hundred appear."

"Not the whole family, Calum. The Queen seems to not be in their sights. As to why, there would be many reasons – her advanced age for one - but none of them significant enough to have them going to these lengths. Remember that Yusuf Kassar is no doubt being paid big money to set this up."

"Do you mind if I use this?" Calum asked, picking up a pencil from Ruth's desk.

"Be my guest."

Calum then put the end of the pencil in his mouth, and flicked it back and forth between his teeth, creating a hollow clicking sound.

"Calum, that is _really_ annoying."

"I know, but it helps me to think. I'm trying to think like Harry would. You have to admit, Ruth, that while you may be the brighter one of the two of you, he regularly came up with some pretty wild schemes. Harry's a dude!"

Ruth smiled at Calum. His respect for Harry had certainly increased since Julian Sevigny had taken over as Section Head.

"There's something at the back of my brain," he said, after he'd removed the pencil from his mouth, "which is telling me that we're being sent on a wild goose chase, and that whatever it is Kassar is setting up, it's not a hit on the royals."

Just then. Ruth's mobile rang. "It's Tariq," she said, opening her phone. "Tariq," she said, and then she listened. And her facial expression changed from pleasant to surprised, and then to shocked. "Are you sure about that, Tariq? Absolutely? And what does ….. the asset say? Okay. Calum is here with me now. I'll tell him. And thank you for letting me know. `Bye."

Ruth closed her phone, put it on her desk, and then looked across at Calum. "They've cracked the encryption. All of it. My asset is now busily ensuring their tracks have been covered. It seems your hunch was right, Calum. The royal family, and the media barons have nothing to do with this. What I want to know is why haven't we looked into Kassar's religious affiliations?"

"We did. He doesn't have any."

"That's nigh on impossible. He grew up in Karachi," Ruth pointed out. "Perhaps he's covered his own tracks as easily as he's created false leads for us to follow. Calum, here's what I want you to do next. I'm off to visit my asset."

* * *

_Harry's & Ruth's house – Thursday 22nd September – 3.45 pm:_

Normally, Harry would spend the time Daniel was asleep in making preparations for dinner. Feeling distracted and out-of-sorts, he decided that for dinner Daniel could have scrambled egg, while he and Ruth would phone for takeaway. He'd taken Daniel to the park, and Bella had again been there, this time with another child, a boy a little younger than Daniel. The child looked slightly Asian in appearance, and this had set off Harry's internal warning bells. There was something not quite right about this. After Bella had made a beeline for Harry on two consecutive days the previous week, both times being accompanied by the little girl called Ruby, today she had kept her distance from him, and simply nodded an acknowledgement, and then looked away from him. He knew she wasn't interested in him in the way he had intimated to Ruth. He'd been pulling his wife's leg. He loved seeing her passions rise when she was jealous, and he did find it arousing.

Harry knew something was not right about Bella, and the spook in him wanted to find out what it was. He would keep an aye on her.

* * *

_Muswell Park – home of Malcolm Wynn-Jones – Thursday 2nd September - 3.48 pm:_

"While we were waiting for you to get here, Ruth," began Malcolm, "I rang my cousin's daughter. You remember Ron Fairweather, who owns the cottage in North Yorkshire? His sister, Maureen, has a daughter who went to Durham, and is the same age as Yusuf Kasser. It was a bit of a long shot, but it was worth a try. Gabby, Maureen's daughter, now works for an aircraft company in Yorkshire. She was heavily into student politics when she was at Durham. She remembers Yusuf Kassar as being a hard line Muslim. He was extreme – _really_ extreme - and his aim even then was for the Koran to be interpreted _his_ way, and for One True Islam to eventually rule the world."

"Why didn't we find any evidence of this when we checked him out?"

"It's easy enough for history to disappear, and for new `facts' to appear. We do it all the time. Fudging history is part of what we do. It's just that this fellow has been one step ahead of us all the way."

"So when are these attacks planned to occur?" Ruth asked. "And where is Kassar now?"

"Tariq is working on the when. He's a good lad. You're lucky to have him on your team."

"Yes, I know, Malcolm," Ruth replied. "And I knew he and you would get on well." She smiled, despite her fears about the proposed attacks.

"You know that all seven mosques – the one in Leeds, two in Manchester, and the four in London – are where the most moderate of Muslims gather and worship. The Imams of all seven mosques have been openly vilified in the Muslim press for being too conciliatory and open with the wider community."

"So the attacks are to be a message to moderate Muslims."

"Yes, it appears to be. It's a crazy world we live in, Ruth, where openness and tolerance can incite such extreme levels of hatred."

"And, given the nature of the attack, can we pre-empt it in any way?"

"Tariq has already contacted your section head and your section chief. The bomb squad should be on their way as we speak. Tariq and I are working on an encryption which blocks Kassar's access – just in case."

"Next thing will be to find Kassar," Ruth said. "Were this attack to have been successful, he'd have been fired up to achieve more. If he is thwarted this time, his next plan will be more bloody, and more wide-spread."

"I'd have to agree with you, Ruth. My advice is for you to go home. There's nothing more to be done today. Tariq is staying here until he has the proposed date of the attack, and I'll work on Kassar's whereabouts. The latter is probably the most important. My guess is that he's in London somewhere. His known associates are mostly overseas – in the US and in Pakistan. You need to spend some time with Harry and Daniel."

* * *

_Harry's & Ruth's house – Thursday 22nd September – 5.44 pm:_

"Open your mouth for Mummy, Daniel. I need to count your teeth."

Daniel responded by keeping his mouth closed and shaking his head from side to side, his blond curls flopping over his face, his eyes scrunched closed.

"It's egg, Daniel, and you love egg. Don't you?"

"No, no, no," he said, his eyes still closed, his head shaking so much she was afraid it would fall off his shoulders.

"Sweetheart, I think you might be trying to con our son," came a silkily smooth voice from the doorway.

Ruth turned to find Harry, leaning against the door jamb, dressed in a green t-shirt and navy blue track pants, his feet bare, his hair in disarray. "I thought you were having a lie down while I feed Daniel."

"I can't rest properly without you beside me, Ruth."

"And you wouldn't rest at all if I joined you. I know you too well, Harry. Besides, what will we do with this young man while we …... er …... rest?"

"He likes banana, Ruth, and if his stomach is full, he'll go to sleep without objecting."

So Ruth cut up a banana and gave it to her son to eat, and he scoffed it down, getting only a relatively small amount of it over his face. Daniel was in bed and asleep by 6.30, and soon after, Ruth and Harry were in their bedroom.

Harry undressed his wife, slowly and teasingly. By the time they were both naked, their passion overwhelmed them, and their lovemaking was glorious. Afterwards, they lay under the duvet, nestling in the safety of their embrace.

"There will come a day quite soon when we won't be able to make love at this hour of the day," Ruth observed.

"That's why I'm taking every opportunity I can," Harry replied.

"Here I was thinking you were making up for all those years we longed for one another, but didn't do anything about it."

"There's that also, Ruth."

"So, if I understand you correctly, husband of mine, you are attempting to ravish me at every opportunity in order to make up for opportunities lost, as well as opportunities which may not be there in the future. Am I right?"

"You're close, although it sounds bad when you say it like that. I'm not keeping score, or anything."

"And I'm relieved to learn that. I'd hate to think you're keeping a tally in a leather-bound book you hide in the bottom drawer of your desk."

"But just imagine," continued Ruth, "how impossible it will be for us to have a sex life when he's fifteen?"

"I'll be happy enough to be capable of a sex life when he's fifteen."

"I hope we'll always be capable, Harry. Sex is such an important part of our marriage."

"As it should be."

"I have something to tell you."

"You're not pregnant again, are you?"

Ruth laughed into his chest. "No, I'm not, and I don't want to be, and by that comment, I imagine nor do you want me to be."

"As much as I love Daniel, Ruth, I don't think I could manage another child. I'm about to turn fifty-eight, and eventually age will catch up with me."

"I had a meeting this morning with Towers."

"Go on."

"He offered me a job." Ruth then told Harry about her conversation with the Home Secretary.

"That's almost too good to pass up," Harry said when Ruth mentioned the salary.

"I wouldn't be doing it for the money, Harry. I was under the impression we don't really need the money."

"No, we don't, but a decent nest-egg for you and Daniel will be necessary, considering I'll probably die long before you."

"I don't even want to think about that. We've just had the most fantastic sex, and now you're talking about dying. Sometimes you're such an enigma, Harry."

"Darling, I don't want to think about or talk about it, but the likelihood of you being widowed and having to bring up Daniel on your own is quite high."

"But I thought you retired to ensure that wouldn't happen."

"I did that to ensure it didn't happen soon, Ruth. I have no intention of dying soon but it's likely I will die before you. It's just statistics, sweetheart."

"I say crap to statistics."

Harry laughed, and drew her close to him, his lips meeting hers.

"What do you really think about Towers' offer?" Ruth asked, coming up for air.

"I'll support whatever you decide. Honestly? I'd feel happier with you working within the Home Office than at Section D. It's only natural that I'd want you to be safe."

"Thank you," Ruth said quietly, lifting her head to kiss him. "Shall we eat," she asked after a while, or do you want to stay here?"

"I vote for staying here," Harry said. "Food can be so over-rated."


	4. Chapter 4

_The Grid – Monday 3rd October – 10.10 am:_

In the days following the discovery of Kassar's true plans, Tariq, Malcolm and Calum worked long hours to unravel the mystery of Yusuf Kassar's true intentions, while Ruth and Oliver Ravenscroft returned to examining the backlog of intel which had accumulated during the time both of them had been working on the Kassar case. The bomb squad had found devices in all except the Leeds mosque, leading Ruth to believe that Kassar may be in Leeds, and could have infiltrated that mosque on the pretence of being a moderate Muslim. Photographs of Kassar had been sent out to MI-5 operatives in both Manchester and Leeds, but he still hadn't been found.

"We really need to find him," Ruth added. "If we had some footage of Kassar, Tariq could use his gait analysis program to try to find him."

"That's just it," Calum replied, "Tariq hasn't been able to find any, and if Tariq can't, then none exists."

"I'm not so sure," Ruth mused. "Leave it with me. I have an idea."

Ruth picked up her phone to ring to Malcolm.

"Malcolm," she said once he'd answered, "we need some footage of Yusuf Kassar so that we can do a face recog and a gait analysis. I'm wondering whether Ronnie's niece might have something tucked away in her spare room. Perhaps she has something on DVD, or even on her computer. It's a long shot, I know …..."

"Good thinking, Ruth. Leave it with me, and there's another thing I've figured out. "It seems a long way off, I know," Malcolm said, "but the deeper I delve into this, the more I believe this man is working alone. November 6th is Eid el-Adha, the `Festival of Sacrifice' in the Muslim calendar. It would appeal to Kassar's sense that what he is doing is right. I believe that it's likely he'll set the explosives, and then get a long way from Britain before he sets them off – remotely - on that date."

"Good work, Malcolm. I agree with you that that seems likely."

After Ruth put her phone back on her desk, she was overwhelmed by a sinking feeling in her stomach, and it had nothing to do with Kassar. Whatever it was she was feeling, it hadn't happened yet. The last time she'd felt like this was the morning she'd run into Mik Maudsley. She wondered whether Harry was alright, and if Daniel was safe. Something gnawed away at her insides, and wouldn't let her go. She took out her phone and rang Harry.

"Hi sweetheart," he said. "Do you miss me already?"

"I have one of my funny feelings that something is very wrong."

"Well, it's not Daniel or me. We're fine. We're at the park."

"Just be careful. That's all I'm saying. I was just checking you're alright. I have to go. I love you."

"I love you too, even with your spooky feelings."

* * *

_Hampstead Heath, children's playground – Monday 3rd October – 10.19 am:_

Harry closed his phone, and slipped it back into his pocket. He sat on a seat at the edge of the sandpit while Daniel busied himself with the plastic bucket and spade. An independent little boy, Daniel preferred to fill his bucket his way, rather than have his father help him. This gave Harry the freedom to examine the other people at the park. There were the usual gathering of small children accompanied by mothers, fathers, grandparents, and nannies. Most were younger than Harry, and all but a few he'd seen here before.

"Dadda!" Daniel called, and Harry stepped into the sandpit to help him turn his bucket the right way up, so that he could put sand in it, rather than over the bottom of it. Harry then stepped back and sat on a seat overlooking the sandpit. He was watching Daniel, but was taking in everything outside his normal field of vision.

Without knowing where they'd come from, Harry was suddenly surrounded by dogs, at least four of them, perhaps five, and they were big dogs – German Shepherds, and Labradors, and one Afghan Hound.. The sign at the entrance to the playground stated clearly `No Dogs Allowed'. He stood and looked for who was meant to be in charge of them. Running behind the pack of dogs was a young woman of around twenty, calling out to the dogs. Hampstead Heath was a common place for dog walkers, but the children's playground was out of bounds. Harry heard children crying, some were screaming, and parents and grandparents called out to their children.

He made his decision without a lot of forethought. The young woman couldn't handle the dogs, and they were a potential danger to not only his own child, but also to other children. Harry took off after the two dogs nearest him, with a view to grabbing their leashes and bringing them under control. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed two or three other men with the same idea. It took only a few minutes for the dogs to be caught, gathered together, and then taken outside the park. The young woman was nowhere to be seen.

"I'll call the police," offered one of the men, a little older than Harry. "There's something a bit out of kilter about a dog walker who lets her dogs into a kids' playground, and then disappears, leaving her dogs behind."

Harry walked back into the playground to join Daniel, but he couldn't see his son's blond mop anywhere. Harry's felt his face and neck suddenly flush as his heart-rate increased dramatically. He ran towards the sandpit shouting Daniel's name. _Daniel! Daniel! Daniel, where are you?_

"Has anyone seen my little boy?" he called out, his voice near panic. "He's fifteen months, and he has fair curly hair. He's wearing a red jacket with a yellow hood. _Anyone?_"

Two adults – one a woman and the other an older man – came towards him. The man held out his hand, as though doing so would settle and calm Harry. Meanwhile, Harry was looking outside the perimeter of the playground in case Daniel had wandered off, something he'd never done before.

"Where was he when you last saw him?" asked the man.

"Right here," replied Harry, almost shouting, "in this sandpit. That's his bucket and spade."

"I remember him," the woman said. "He has curly hair and the most beautiful eyes – like yours. He's the image of you. I can remember thinking that when I saw you both arrive. Are you his father?"

"Yes," Harry replied, the air suddenly leaving him. "I'm his father." And I let him down. And I've let Ruth down.

"I think I saw him," another woman, in her thirties with a boy of about three. "He was being carried by this woman. I thought it strange at the time, because I'd noticed he and you arrive together."

"Shit," Harry said quietly, mindful of the three-year-old boy. "I think he's been abducted. I have to make a call."

Harry took out his phone, and rang Tariq's number. Tariq answered immediately. "Harry?"

"Tariq, I can't explain everything now, but I need you to pull up the satellite feed for the children's playground in the south-western corner of Hampstead Heath. If I had the coordinates, I'd give them to you."

"Doing it as you speak, Harry."

"I need vision for the past – er – ten, maybe twelve minutes. It's life or death, Tariq. My son has been abducted. Daniel's been ... taken." With those words, Harry found himself squatting on the ground his head in his hands, holding himself together so he didn't cry. He didn't have the time for such indulgence. He was aware that since Daniel had been born, his emotions had been closer to the surface, easier for him to express, and they had flowed freely. In his life with Ruth and Daniel, this had been a welcome change in him. His security services persona had been put aside, tucked away in his wardrobe along with his silk ties. Right now, he needed some of that focus and self control. He breathed deeply in an attempt to garner some of that denial of self, all the time recognising that he was at screaming point.

Harry didn't know how long he squatted near the ground. It could have been hours, but was more likely to have been no more than a minute or two. The young woman with the three-year-old boy kneeled beside him and put her arm across his shoulder. He was moved by her actions; after all, London is a city of teeming millions, and he knows just how dangerous it can be. The young woman was taking a risk.

"That man over there, the little girl's grandfather, has called the police for you. Is there anyone you'd like me to call?"

Harry got to his feet, wiped his hand across his face, and spoke to her as kindly as he could. "My wife needs to know, but I'll have to ring her. How am I going to tell her this?" he said, to no-one in particular.

"I'll sit beside you while you do it – if that will help. A couple of the fathers are out on the heath looking for your little boy, but I don't think …..." Her voice tailed off, as she didn't wish to distress him any further.

Harry again took out his phone. This phone call would be among the hardest he had ever made. "Ruth?" he said, after she answered. "Are you sitting down?"

_The Grid – Monday 3rd October – 10.32 am:_

Tariq had been so focussed on what was on his monitor that he'd not noticed Ruth take a phone call on her mobile phone, and then collapse into her chair, her hand over her mouth, tears springing to her eyes.

"Got it! I've got it," cried Tariq to no-one in particular. "See that woman there? She's carrying Harry's boy, but the earlier footage shows us that the younger woman with the dogs was the one to pick him up. Jeez, she was quick. This lot have done this before." For a moment, Tariq had forgotten that `Harry's boy' was also Ruth's boy.

Calum and Ruth had overheard him, and they both looked up and at him as he enlarged the images on his screen.

"Now all we have to do is follow her, and see where she's taken him."

"She?" asked Ruth, tears streaming down her face. "_She's_ taken him?"

"Yeah," replied Tariq. "Older woman, good looking, brown hair, nice clothes. She looks like a typical Hampstead matron."

"Get a good image of her, Tariq, and email it to me," said Calum, his voice calm. "I'll run her through the system. Meanwhile, Tariq, you find out where she's taken Daniel."

"This is payback," Ruth said quietly, to herself. "I knew we'd have to pay …... somehow."

Ruth rang back Harry to tell him what Tariq had found on the satellite feed. "It was an older woman who took Daniel, Harry. It sounds like that bloody Bella woman."

"I'll bet her name isn't Bella." Harry suddenly spoke very quietly into the phone. "Darling, I'm so, so sorry about this. There were dogs running through the park, and ..."

"I know, Harry. I've seen the footage. The girl with the dogs grabbed Daniel, and handed him to bloody Bella. They were both in on it. That's what Tariq thinks. Harry, _it wasn't your fault_."

"I should have been holding him."

"You know how Daniel hates to be held when there's serious playing to be done. We'll find him, Harry. We have the resources of Section D at our fingertips. I love you."

"You should hate me, Ruth."

"Well, I don't hate you. I love you, and we'll find him. Soon." Ruth was barely holding it together, but she sensed that she had to be the strong one. She knew Harry would be feeling distressed and guilty about Daniel having been taken `on his watch'. She had heard the panic in his voice.

Tariq was standing next to her, a piece of paper in his hand. "This is the address, Ruth. This is where the well-dressed woman took Daniel."

"Where are Erin and Dimitri?"

"I've called them, and they're both on their way to that address."

"Thank you, Tariq. Harry and I both thank you." She then talked into the phone. "Did you hear that, Harry?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "You're much stronger than I am, Ruth. I lost it completely when I noticed he was gone. I feel so empty without him."

"He'll be found soon, Harry. Thanks to you ringing Tariq we got on to it quickly."

_The Grid – Monday 3rd October – 10.57 am:_

"Dimitri – I'll put you on speaker-phone – any news?" said Calum.

"There's no-one here," Dimitri's voice, weary and flat, came through on speaker-phone. "The house is empty, but there have definitely been children here. There are a couple of squeaky toys on the floor, and a baby blanket. Erin has been upstairs, and she said there were several cots in two bedrooms."

Ruth's previous optimism left her, and she felt the tears falling down her face. She needed Harry. Julian Sevigny, arriving back on the Grid from a meeting, had received a phone call from Erin, updating him on the events of the previous half hour. Julian marched to Ruth's desk, and taking a chair from another desk, sat down close to her.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your son, Ruth. Erin rang me while I was on my way back here. She told me that Harry is still at Hampstead Heath. I think you need to be with him. I'm making my car available to you and Harry. I believe he walked your son to the park, is that right?"

Ruth nodded. "Yes, he pushed him in his stroller. I'd like to be with Harry now, if that's alright."

"My car is out the front, and I asked my driver to wait for you. I don't expect you back here until after your little boy is found, and is back home safe and well. Is that clear?"

Ruth nodded, and without another word, she gathered her bag and her coat and left the Grid.

_The Grid – Monday 3rd October – 11.12 am:_

Tariq went back to the footage of the satellite feed. "Are you there, Dimitri?"

"Still here, Tariq. There are signs that a vehicle had been parked out the back."

"A four-wheel-drive vehicle left there – through a back entrance – only minutes after the woman took Daniel into the house. I'm running it through slowly, so that I can get a better look at it. I'm doing a match on it at the same time... Got it! Toyota Tarago... 2005 model. Colour, white. Number? Wait, I'll just enhance this image here. Got it." He read out the registration number to Dimitri, then asked him to repeat it.

"Nothing's safe from you, is it, Tariq?"

"Not if I can help it."

"I'll be on my way, and if you can get on to traffic and do a trace of the vehicle..."

"I'm doing that as you speak, Dimitri."

"How's Ruth?" Dimitri asked quietly.

"Not good, as you'd expect. Julian has sent her to be with Harry. I think they need each other right now."

"Yeah, they don't deserve this. I'd better go. Let me know where the Tarago is headed. Erin has the police on her phone, and we'll have to liaise with them. This is a civil matter, not terrorism."

"Got a match!" Calum cried out, his voice triumphant. "The older woman? Isobel Anne Redway. Aged … er …. fifty-two. Born in Salisbury. Former social worker. Lost her job 2 years ago for some major breaches to her terms of employment. Seems she loves kids so much that she is wanted for taking babies from mothers she deemed were not fit to be mothers. She fits the bill alright. I'll fax this through to police headquarters."

* * *

_Hampstead Heath – Monday 3rd October – 11.51 am:_

Ruth had leaned back against the upholstery of Julian's car, the driver having closed the partition to give her privacy. She had allowed her tears to flow freely while the driver slid the car through the late morning traffic. She wanted to be more together, stronger by the time she saw Harry. He needed her reassurance, and he needed her to be strong.

The car came to a halt across the road from the children's playground.

"My orders are to stay with you until you and Sir Harry are home, Mrs Pearce. I'll wait here for you, and then I'm to drive you home."

"Thank you, Mike."

Ruth crossed the road, her eyes never leaving Harry, where he was sitting on a bench beside the sandpit, Daniel's bucket and spade dangling from one hand. He was the image of sadness and despair. Standing beside him, talking to him were a woman a few years younger than she, and a man of about Harry's age.

By the time Ruth approached her husband, she again felt strong. He saw her, stood up, and quickly walked to meet her. They stood looking at one another for only a few seconds, and then they put their arms around one another and held on, as though they were each the personal anchor of the other, and without one another, they risked flying off the earth and spinning out of control into deep space. Ruth allowed her husband to draw her close to his body. They needed each other now, more than they'd ever before needed one another.  
"Ruth, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Ssshh," she said. "We'll have him back soon. There are about three hundred people trying to find him."

After a couple of minutes, during which she and Harry held one another in silence, Ruth drew her head from his shoulder, and addressed the two strangers standing nearby. "Thank you for taking care of my husband," she said. "I can't tell you how much it has meant to us to know that there are some decent people in the world."

"It could have been any of the children who were here," the woman said. "I bring my son here most days. I can't imagine the hell you and your husband are going through. If there's anything at all I can do," and she handed Ruth a slip of paper with a mobile phone number written next to the name, `Christa'. "Don't hesitate to ring me. If you need someone to talk to."

Ruth took the paper, knowing she wouldn't ring the woman, other than perhaps in a few days to thank her for her help and concern. "Thank you," was all she was able to say. Ruth's heart was so full of pain and love and fear and anger that she felt almost incapable of communicating clearly. "My husband and I have to go home now. We have to wait. We need Daniel back."

Ruth turned to Harry and took his hand in hers, and together they left the park from where Daniel had been snatched, and walked across the road to where Julian's driver was waiting to take them home.

* * *

_**A/N: For the purposes of the plot I have had to take a few liberties re locations. I have no idea whether there's a children's playground on one edge of Hampstead Heath. I am imagining there isn't, but for this story, there is.**_

_**And kudos to all those who sensed something brewing. I hadn't planned to have Daniel abducted until I got to this chapter, and I'd originally introduced `bloody Bella' just as a plot device for Harry to use to stir up Ruth's jealousy. Who knew she was a tad psycho?**_


	5. Chapter 5

_Harry's and Ruth's house – Monday Oct 3rd – 12.21 pm:_

"Tea?"

Harry smiled at Ruth's suggestion. _We English are so bloody predictable_, he thought. _What do we do when we're happy? Drink tea. When we're sad? Drink tea. In a crisis? Drink tea._

"That would be nice," he replied.

They'd said very little since they'd been delivered home by Julian's driver. Mike had removed Daniel's stroller from the boot of the car and carried it to the front door, a forlorn reminder that Daniel was elsewhere, although they knew not where. Harry had carried his son's bucket and spade inside and placed it on the hall table.

When Ruth's phone rang, she jumped in surprise, then almost leapt on it. "Erin?" she said, noting the name which had come up on her display. As she listened, Ruth looked across the table at Harry, noticing how drawn he looked, age lines creating shadows on his face. She had never loved him more than she did at that moment. "Yes, Erin, he's with me, and I'll tell him. Thank you." Ruth slowly closed her phone, and put it down. "It seems you stumbled upon a woman attempting to make a living by selling children," she said to Harry, "although it's possible she sees it as procuring for adoption. Either way, she's been stealing children in order to sell them on."

"She wanted to _sell_ Daniel?"

"That's what Calum has found out. The police have been trying to crack this open for a while. Children have gone missing from children's homes, and estates, but it seems she decided to attempt to abduct some children from the middle classes. Daniel is the second to go missing in the past two weeks. It's been in the papers and on TV, but I've been so busy lately, what with the Kassar case."

"Do they know where he is?"

"As of now, Erin and Dimitri, and two unmarked police cars are following the Tarago south. They're not absolutely certain of her destination, although she owns a property just south of Hayward's Heath. There will be a local police presence there to greet her. Hopefully our son will be safe, Harry, and we will have him home with us later today. The rescue operation is in good hands."

Suddenly, as if she'd been turned on by an invisible switch, Ruth rose from her seat, and turned towards the kitchen cupboards, opening each one, and pulling out Daniel's sippy cup, his bowl, and his eating utensils from the drawer. "We have to get ready for him for when he comes home," she said, to herself, rather than to Harry. She opened the fridge door, and looked around. "There's hardly any milk, Harry. He'll need milk."

"He has toddler formula, Ruth. We have plenty of that. I bought a fresh tin two days ago."

Ruth suddenly stood still and looked across at her husband, her face stricken with worry and confusion, the stress of the day etched on her face. Harry got quickly to his feet, and walked around the table. He took Ruth's hand, and drew her towards him. She had prepared herself for a hug, but she hadn't expected the deep kiss, nor had she expected his hand on her buttocks, pulling her against him. _God, Harry. Is everything a turn-on for you?_

"Let's go upstairs," he growled into her neck.

"Harry, our son is still missing. Tell me you're not taking advantage of him being out of the house."

He pulled back from her to look her in the eyes. "Of course not. We're tense, Ruth, and wound up from this. I thought we should …... unwind."

As inappropriate as it still seemed to Ruth, she couldn't say no to Harry. His kisses were so deep, and his hands knew exactly where she enjoyed being touched, and as bizarre as it sounded, even to herself, she needed this just as much as Harry. They climbed the stairs together, undressed each other carefully, and slid between the sheets. They lay naked beneath the duvet, wrapped around each other for some time, until Harry's hand moved across his wife's body, setting alight all her inner circuits, the ones he knew needed to be turned on. They began slowly, but in its later stages their lovemaking was frantic and fast, their release bursting from them in gasps and cries of pleasure. When he turned towards her, he saw the sheen of tears on her face.

"This is how he began," she said quietly, her voice almost breaking. "That night when we made him, it was like this."

_Except I was still almost fully dressed,_ he wanted to point out. "He's still alive, Ruth. It's just that we don't have him with us right now. We'll have him back soon." He turned towards her, and kissed her gently, while his fingers stroked her wet cheeks.

"You dressed him warmly, didn't you, Harry? I'd hate it were he cold while he's away from us."

"I did, Ruth. I dressed him warmly."

Harry felt rather than heard the sobs emerge from deep within his wife's body. He put his arms around her, and held her while she cried out her fear and pain from having believed Daniel may have been gone from them forever.

"I'd been afraid his abduction had something to do with the Kassar case," she said at last, her voice flat and nasal from crying. "I thought it was a warning for us to back off."

"I know, Ruth. I know."

_Same day – 2.08 pm:_

"Ruth? It's Erin. I just thought I'd tell you we're about to go in. We've been watching the house from a distance, and we had to be sure that she had Daniel with her... yes, she has. And another little boy with dark hair. I think he might be Jamie Bhandar, who was taken from a park in North London two days before Daniel. I'll ring you again when Daniel is safely with us."

_Home of Isobel Redway – Monday Oct 3rd – 2.47 pm:_

The police liaison officer held Daniel Pearce in her arms. Behind her, a male police officer carried Jamie Bhandar. Both children had tear-stained cheeks.

"We're taking the children into Hayward's Heath," she said to Erin, who was waiting by the car. "There's a doctor on duty at the clinic who works with the police. He'll examine both children, then we can take them back to their parents. If you would like to follow us, I can give you a child seat for your car, and if it suits you, you can deliver Daniel back to his parents. I believe you know them?"

"Yes," Erin replied, relieved, "his mother works with us, and his father used to be our boss. I think it best if Dimitri and I were to take him home. He knows us a little bit, so that might be best."

The police officer knew they were security services. It seemed impolite to mention that she knew. Their presence had been the catalyst to getting this case sewn up, and she wasn't about to complain about that.

* * *

_Harry's and Ruth's house – Monday Oct 3rd – 5.05 pm:_

"I can hardly wait, Harry."

"Me neither, and I promise to never again make a crack about selling our son to slave traders."

"Erin said he was upset, but he'd not been ill-treated, and before he fell asleep in the car-seat, he kept asking for `Dadda'."

Ruth stepped across the room to her husband, and put her arms around his waist. They were still holding one another when the doorbell rang. Ruth dropped her arms from Harry's waist, turned and ran for the front door, throwing it open to reveal Erin holding Daniel.

"Mumma!" Daniel cried, his face one big smile, as he leaned towards Ruth, his arms out in front of him.

Ruth grabbed her son from Erin's arms, and held him close, burying her face in Daniel's soft neck. From behind her, Harry embraced his wife and son, his arms pulling them both close to him.

"Excuse us if we don't ask you in, Erin," he said, "but we have some catching up to do."

"I hadn't expected to be asked in, Harry. This is a time for your family. You're not expected back at work until Thursday, Ruth. Calum, Tariq and Oliver are managing the Kassar case very well. They'll have it sewn up by the end of this week. I know Malcolm Wynn-Jones is involved also, but I promise I won't say anything about that to Julian. My lips are sealed." Erin made a zipping motion over her lips.

"Thank you, Erin," Ruth said, lifting her face from Daniel, rocking him from side to side. "And thank you for all you did to get Daniel. Harry and I, we couldn't …..."

"I know, Ruth. I would have been the same had Rosie been taken. Take care of each other," she said as she turned to walk back down the path.

Harry closed the door, Daniel called out `Dadda!', and Ruth handed their son over to Harry for him to cuddle. Their world, which had temporarily stopped turning, was once again in steady motion.

* * *

_Harry's and Ruth's house – Tuesday Oct 4th – 6.45 pm:_

"That was Erin," Harry said, closing Ruth's phone. He'd taken the call while Ruth was in Daniel's room, singing him to sleep, just as she'd sung to him while he was still inside her body.

"Does she know anything more?" Ruth asked, entering the kitchen, where Harry was making them both a cup of tea.

"Isobel Redway is being charged with – so far – eight counts of child abduction. Her lawyer is trying to get her off on grounds of impaired mental health, but her interviews with police have convinced them that she'd planned it all, and that she knew exactly what she was doing and why. In her mind she was giving the children better homes, with people who were able to care for them better. This has been her justification for her making money from selling them on."

"But why did she take Daniel, and that other little boy? That boy's mother is a barrister in the criminal court. Her child was hardly deprived."

"She took Daniel, firstly because he's nice-looking, and he'd be easy to sell. Ruth, it hurts me to use that word."

I know, Harry."

"She befriended me to determine my relationship with Daniel. Being his father, she considered me too old to parent him, and so she justified her abduction of him on those grounds."

"The Bhandar child?"

"His father is Asian. This woman is also a racist. The police psychologist has diagnosed Isobel Redway with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. She sees nothing wrong with what she did, and probably never will. She has the ability to justify all of her actions, but she's not insane, so they'll lock her away for a while, I hope."

"I have one more day off. What would you like to do tomorrow?"

"Can we just stay home?" Harry said. "Like we did today. I just want to be in our house with you and Daniel."

"That sounds like a lovely plan, Harry. But first I have to ring Christa to let her know we have Daniel home with us."

"Christa?"

"The woman at the park who looked after you, Harry. She gave me her mobile number. If she was kind enough to care for a stranger, then the least I can do is to let her know Daniel is back home with us."

* * *

_Home of Malcolm Wynn-Jones – Wednesday Oct 5th – 4.17 pm:_

"Found him!" came Tariq's shout from behind his laptop. "That footage from Gabby's film of the student demo at Durham was a stroke of genius, Malcolm. The gait analysis picked him up."

"So, where is this little vandal, Tariq?"

"I found him walking away from the Cross Gates train station in Leeds. The moderate mosque he's targeted in Leeds is just around the corner from that train station. It appears he was on his way there."

"And when was this, Tariq?" Malcolm's finds it hard to suppress the pride in his voice. He's a bright boy, and Malcolm could not be prouder were Tariq his own son.

"This morning, just before 9 am. This means that the Leeds mosque may now be live with explosives. I'll buzz Erin, and get her to call in the bomb squad to the Leeds mosque."

"How are you managing blocking Kassar's access to the satellite?" asked Malcolm. "Remember what I told you about protecting your own access."

"I think I have it pinned, Malcolm, but I'll be a lot happier when this guy is picked up."

_Leeds – Thursday Oct 6th – 6.05 am:_

Leo Klein and Hakim Saeed, MI-5 operatives stationed in Leeds, had identified Yusuf Kassar from the photographs sent to them by Tariq Masood. Their orders were to take Kassar off the street, and then escort him to Thames house for questioning. Kassar left his flat, and headed for the train station. Once on the train, he was approached by two men, one English and the other Pakistani. He'd met them in the mosque several times during the past week, and they had spoken of needing to teach these moderate Imams a thing or two. The three men left the train together, and at the offer of the two men, Kassar, got into a car with them. They told him they would drive him to the mosque, but it was soon clear that their destination was somewhere other than Leeds.

Yusuf Kassar had failed. At his first opportunity he planned to take his own life, but he would take as many others with him as he could. He got his wish, but not in the way he'd wanted or expected. While driving down the M1, approaching Luton, Leo Klein fell asleep at the wheel, and the car slammed into the back of a broken down lorry, and the car burst into flames on impact. All three men were killed instantly. Leo Klein left a wife and a 9-year-old son, while Hakim Saeed left his elderly parents without anyone to watch out for them. Yusuf Kassar left more unanswered questions, although all 7 mosques were ultimately unharmed. Kassar had not yet set explosives in the Leeds mosque, so none were ever found. The identity of his his financial backers remained a mystery.

* * *

_Donnington Manor Hotel – Kent – Wednesday November 2nd – 6.40 am:_

Ruth opened her eyes, half expecting Daniel to be standing beside the bed, saying: _Mumma up_. She reached out her hand to find the other side of the bed empty. Retirement had done little to change Harry's habits of a lifetime. He was still a morning person, and even on their night away from home, he was up well before the sun had risen. She stretched her naked body under the covers. She felt rested and well loved. She also felt incredibly voluptuous and sexy.

It wasn't until the shower turned off that she realised it had been running. Within minutes, Harry, wrapped in a luxurious white bathrobe, his hair still wet, and his eyes shining, entered the bedroom. Standing next to his side of the bed, he let the bathrobe drop to the floor, revealing his naked body.

"Stop ogling me, woman," he said. "You're objectifying me. There's a whole lot more to me than being an object of your lust."

"Oh Harry, stop whining. I didn't hear you complaining last night. In fact, what I heard from you was mostly expressions of extreme pleasure."

He leaned across the top of the duvet, and put his lips on hers. As the kiss became deeper, Ruth put her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

"What kind of parents are we if we're not missing our son?" Ruth asked.

"Normal parents," he replied, attempting to again kiss her, but meeting opposition from her hands on his chest.

"I feel terrible, Harry. I missed him all the way down here, then all through dinner I could think of nothing other than whether Daniel was missing us. Then once we got into bed, I hadn't given him another thought until I woke up this morning. I think that makes me a terrible mother."

"For what it's worth, Ruth, I think that makes you a relaxed and sexually satisfied woman. But just in case you're not totally relaxed, I have a suggestion to make …..."

This time, Harry grabbed both of Ruth's hands in his, and leaned down to her and kissed her soundly and deeply. The moans she emitted from deep in her throat encouraged him, so he slipped under the covers, and drew her close to him.

Even before she and Harry had made love the first time, Ruth knew he'd be a good lover, a skilled lover. What she hadn't known was that after a little over four years together, he was still a fantastic lover – patient, loving, enthusiastic, exciting, inventive. Even at fifty-eight, he had the capacity to excite her, just by a look, or the touch of his hand. That morning, the morning after Harry's birthday, she was too delighted by her husband to worry about her son.

Lying together after they'd made love, Ruth again thought of Daniel.

"Do you think we should ring Catherine, just to see if Daniel is alright?"

"No," Harry said emphatically. "Worrying about him can become addictive, and it just isn't necessary. Were something wrong, Catherine or Graham would have rung us."

"You're right."

"Of course I am. Do you remember why we came all the way to Kent for our night out?"

"So we couldn't go home if I missed Daniel, because it would be too far."

"So, Ruth, we should bloody enjoy ourselves. That's why we're here."

"Have you enjoyed your birthday, Harry?"

"See this smile on my face, Ruth? That's a smile of enjoyment. Now, let's get some shut-eye."

* * *

_**A/N: Thank you to readers, followers & reviewers of this story. Next chapter is the final one of this story, and also the trilogy.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: This is the last chapter of this fic …... fluffy ending alert! I couldn't help myself; I had to have a little fun with our favourite couple.**_

* * *

_North Yorkshire cottage – Thursday 12__th__ January – 7.45 am_:

Ruth opened her eyes, taking in the room around her. She immediately remembered where she was and why. A quick glance at the bed beside her told her that Harry was already up, no doubt having lit the stove, and would be making their breakfast (in between splitting the quark and finding a cure for the common cold.) The day before had been their fourth wedding anniversary, and they had celebrated in the cottage – a dinner of roast lamb with vegetables and mint sauce, followed by steamed chocolate pudding, all washed down with buckets of wine – the result of which Ruth swore she would never touch another drop of alcohol for as long as she still drew breath. On their way upstairs to bed, Harry had been talking about her sixth sense, but the words had come out as `sex sinth' When he attempted to correct himself, he'd said `sexth sin', which had them laughing uncontrollably. They had fallen on to bed, and after a brief fumble – which had led nowhere – they had tumbled under the duvet, throwing off their clothes, and within minutes were asleep.

She dragged herself out of bed, and then staggered across the landing and into the shower. There she stood, allowing the hottest water she could tolerate to rain down upon her until she once again began to feel human. Once dried and dressed, she took the stairs slowly, to find downstairs toasty warm from the fire roaring in the stove, and Harry pulling a stack of pancakes from the warmer on the cooker.

"Pancakes! Harry, how can you stomach pancakes after what we ate last night?"

He pulled out a chair for her, and waited until she'd sat down. "Today is a momentous day, Ruth. We begin our fifth year of marriage. Isn't that fantastic?" He bent down and kissed her cheek before seating himself opposite. "Now, tuck yourself around these. You'll need refuelling for what I have planned for today."

Ruth poured herself a cup of tea from the teapot on the table. "It's snowing outside. What could you possibly have planned?"

"I'm not thinking about outdoor activities, Ruth. It is mid-winter, and we're in the north of England. As disappointed as I'm sure you'll be, a quick game of backyard cricket is not on the agenda."

Ruth groaned, attempting to focus her mind by watching the flakes of snow hit the kitchen window, and then slide down the glass. Sometimes – but not often – she longed for the grumpy, moody Harry, the man she had first fallen in love with. This man had often been troubled, riddled as he'd been by pain and guilt, and the fear of what he knew could happen if he ever lost sight of the ball. The Harry she now found herself married to was happy to the point of insanity – hers mainly. He was energetic and proud – of her, of their son, of the life they had created together – and his abundant energy seemed to increase, rather than decrease, with age. Despite this, she would not want to be anywhere else, and nor would she want to be married to any other man.

Ruth smiled across the table at Harry as she sipped her tea. "So what _is_ on the agenda?"

"Do you remember when we were last away from our son overnight?"

"Your birthday in November."

"And do you remember how much you missed Daniel?"

"Yes, of course. And you didn't?"

"Of course I missed him, and I was not insensitive to your missing him. We had that scare back in October when he was taken, but I didn't want that to interfere with our precious time alone together. Had we been too afraid to leave him, then Isobel Redway would have won. Can you see that, Ruth?"

"Yes, I understand that, but you wouldn't even let me ring to see if he was alright."

"And how was he when we got home?"

"He was fine. Catherine and Graham told us he'd been fine, and had only missed us for the first one and a half minutes after we'd gone."

"We also discovered that he'd learned two new words."

Ruth looked up at her husband, and smiled at him. "He'd learned to say Gay and Cak. That's pretty impressive for 24 hours. It's possible our son is a genius," she added with a smile.

"If that's so, he'll be taking after you, my love. I'm not sure that Graham has ever recovered from his little brother calling him `Gay'. Nor is Catherine fond of being called `Cak'. Both Catherine and Graham will be glad when Daniel can speak more clearly."

"You do realise that they call him Dan, and that it won't be long before he'll refuse to answer to `Daniel'."

"I know. Graham calls him `Dan-the-Man', and Daniel loves it."

"Listen to us, Harry. Here we are, on a belated honeymoon, with five nights away from home, and all we can talk about is our child."

"Sweetheart, I was going to suggest that after we finish breakfast, we could ring Catherine and talk to him... just to settle any anxieties you may have."

"I'd like that, Harry." She looked at him with an expression that he knew well. When she looked up at him through her eyelashes, as she did at this moment, it was as though she was saying: _I adore you, and I hope you feel the same way about me. _ He did, of course. "I suppose I should try one of these pancakes, since you made so many."

* * *

"Daniel, it's Mummy. I miss you, darling."

"Mummy? Daddy?" He followed their names with a long string of nonsensical babble, but Ruth was sure she heard a `Gay' and a `Cak' in there somewhere.

"Here's Daddy. He wants to speak with you."

And so Daniel's parents passed the phone back and forth, firstly to speak to their son, then to Catherine, then to Graham, and then again to Daniel. Hearing a grizzle from Daniel, Ruth handed the phone quickly to Harry for him to say goodbye.

"He was crying by the time I hung up," Harry said miserably.

"I know. Perhaps we shouldn't have done that."

"Perhaps not. Can you wait until Sunday night to speak to him and see him again?"

"I'll have to. I don't think I could do that to him again."

"Although Graham assured me he always cries when we go, but only for a minute or two. It's the same when you go to work in the mornings. He cries when you go, but only for a little while."

"Which reminds me that I start at the Home Office in four days. I can't believe that Towers is providing me with a car and a driver to pick me up and bring me home again." Ruth noticed a guilty look pass over Harry's face. "Was that your doing, Harry?"

"I made …... a suggestion to Towers. I rang him and told him that, despite your increase in salary, he's still getting your services rather cheaply. I suggested he offer you further incentive …... like a car and a driver."

"Harry Pearce, you are such a wheeler and dealer. I was happy to go to work and back by public transport. I _can _fight my own battles, you know."

"I am aware that you can, but a woman of your seniority in the Home Office should have access to some of the perks other public servants enjoy. All Towers' other senior staff have drivers, so why shouldn't you? I said the same to Towers, and he agreed. He acknowledged he was getting you very cheaply. Tell me you're happy about that, Ruth."

"I'm happy because it means I get to be home for an extra 45 minutes in the morning, and I get home by 5.30 each evening, and my weekends are free to spend with you and Daniel. So …... thank you for pleading my case."

Harry reached across the sofa to receive her kiss. Her face had been pale when she first came down the stairs, but was now suffused with healthy colour. "I have something for you, Ruth. I meant to give it to you last night, but I got distracted by the wine and the dazzling company."

He got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen where he opened a drawer. When he again sat down next to Ruth, she noticed a small gift-wrapped parcel in his hand. He handed her the parcel, saying, "Happy anniversary, darling," and then leaned across and kissed her gently.

"Harry, I didn't buy you anything. Was I supposed to give you something?"

"I wake up each morning next to you. You carried our child inside your body, and then pushed him out into the world. I'd say that's gifts enough for a whole lifetime of anniversaries. Open it, Ruth. I want to see your face when you open it."

Ruth slowly unwrapped the small box, then neatly folded the gold wrapping paper. When she opened the small hinged box, her mouth formed an `O'. "Harry, that's beautiful. And it's an antique, too."

"I didn't give you an engagement ring, so this is something for now, and for our future life together."

"I didn't need an engagement ring, Harry. Knowing we were to be married was enough."

Inside the satin-lined box lay an antique gold eternity ring, on which were two joined hearts in gold, one with a ruby, and the other a sapphire in the centre of the heart, and each gemstone surrounded by clusters of old-cut diamonds.

"It's an eternity ring, Ruth"

"Does that mean I have to stay with you for eternity?"

"Of course."

Ruth took it out of the box and handed it to Harry. After he'd slipped it on her finger, alongside her wedding ring, Harry placed his lips firstly on the two rings on her finger, and then on her lips. "Happy anniversary, Ruth," he said, "and may we have many more together."

Ruth pulled out of the kiss and held up her hand to admire the rings.

"Do you like it?" he asked, suddenly worried that he may have made a faux pas. This extraordinary woman he had married was not one to be won over with extravagant gifts and gestures. She was deeper than that.

"I love it," she replied quietly. "It's beautiful. No …... it's perfect. It suits me perfectly."

Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief. "A perfect ring for the perfect wife."

"Oh, Harry, I'm not perfect. I can be difficult, as well you know."

"Alas, that's true, but ….."

Ruth hit him playfully on the arm. "Harry! You're meant to disagree, and say how wonderful I am!"

Harry grasped her hand and pulled her close to his chest, burying his face in her neck. His lips began exploring her neck, and then his tongue circled inside the rim of her ear. Despite her earlier hangover symptoms, Ruth had sparked up after two cups of tea and a pancake, and Harry's enthusiasm was infectious, and his lips and tongue already had her captivated. She responded to his touches and his kisses, her hands and his hands searching for bare skin on the other.

"Harry," she said, pulling slightly away from him, eliciting a groan from him. "If we don't move upstairs now, we'll ….."

"And what's wrong with the sofa? It's a big sofa, and we've never tried it out, not even in those first heady days when we had sex every five minutes."

"Harry, we have as much sex now as we did back then, even now we have Daniel."

"I beg to differ, Ruth. I've done the calculations, and back when you first came back from Denmark, we had sex on average 8 times per week, and then after we …..."

"Harry! Is this actually something you'd given _thought_ to?"

"Of course it is. I'm a man, so by extension that means I'm obsessed with sex. When I'm not dreaming about making love to you, I'm adding up the number of times we've made love throughout the time we've been together, and then I've divided that by the number of weeks we've been doing it. Then I compare this with the …..."

"Tell me you haven't put it on a spread sheet! Were you doing these calculations while you were still section head?"

"Of course. What did you think I was doing in my office all day? I suppose you thought I was reading reports." He rolled his eyes.

"I honestly don't know what to say."

"So, say `Darling, I'd love to make love with you on the sofa. What an adventure that would be'."

So they did, and after Ruth stopped thinking about them being on the sofa, she once again lost herself in their lovemaking.

"How come our best sex is in the mornings?" Ruth asked, as Harry was lazily pulling a blanket over them as they lay naked and exhausted and entwined after they'd made love.

"Because it's the best time to be doing it. Most people wait until night-time, and then wonder why they're always too tired. It makes more sense to be doing it in the morning."

"Did you …...?"

"With Jane? No, she thought it obscene to have sex in the morning. You're the only woman who has ever gone along with it."

"You're a morning person, Harry, and I'm not. It's a miracle we're still married."

"We complement one another. I think we fit together perfectly. Yin and yang."

They nestled together on the sofa, he at the back, and she closer to the edge, his arm holding her firmly against his chest.

And they slept.

Much later, Harry lifted himself from behind his wife to attend to the combustion stove, the fire having died down. Ruth was woken by the noise he made opening and closing the stove door while he added wood to the fire. Still naked, he sat down on the sofa beside her.

"There's something else I have to share with you, Ruth."

"Harry, as much as I love every single _inch_ of your body, there is a certain body part of yours which is right in my line of sight, and I have to tell you that you've already shared it with me …... many, many times. I have seen it, touched it, _tasted_ it, even felt it inside me …..."

Harry chuckled quietly. "I guess you'll have to exhibit some self control, then Ruth. I can't help it if you find me irresistible."

Ruth took her hand from beneath the blanket, and slowly moved it from his knee up his thigh. As she ran her palm along his thigh and towards his groin, her thumb `accidentally' touched him.

"See what I mean? No self control at all, Ruth. What I have to share with you is not to be found on my body."

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed. She withdrew her hand, and covered Harry's lap with the blanket.

"I spoke to Ronnie."

"Ronnie? Ronnie who?"

"Ronnie Fairweather, owner of this cottage. I made him an offer to take it off his hands. He's thinking about it."

"Harry, shouldn't you have discussed this with me first?"

"I should have, I know, but Malcolm mentioned that Ronnie was considering putting it on the market, since he rarely uses it himself, so I thought I'd get in first. It would make a great weekend getaway for us, and when Daniel gets a little bigger, he could come with us."

Ruth leaned back against the cushions and looked at him, her expression cryptic. "Is there anything you can't do?" she asked him after a while.

He gazed at her for a long time before he answered. "I can't stop loving you, and I can't imagine my life without you." he said seriously, almost in a whisper.

"Right answer," she said, just before his lips captured hers.

* * *

_**A/N: That's where I'll leave them. I hope you've enjoyed.**_

_**New fic up soon.**_


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